Bed We Never Shared
by Lostinthewords57
Summary: She always thought they had all the time in the world but lying there in the bed they never shared, she just wanted that one moment back where she could say those three little words and he'd still be there.


"_I want to tell you so before the sun goes dark  
><em>_How to hold my heart  
><em>'_Cause I don't want to let go, let go, let go of you."  
><em>_~Sara Bareilles Hold My Heart_

She really never thought she'd be alone. She thought she'd have him, his love and him eventually. That with time they'd have forever and those walls around her heart, would tumble down. He had after all; promised her, told her he'd never leave and he'd take down each brick just so he could slip inside. He had promised that he'd _always_ be there and living without her wasn't an option.

And she believed him because he had never really lied to her before.

But he did the one thing he said he'd never do, he left and she was left behind to wonder if there had been anything she could have done, said differently that day and he'd still be here and she wouldn't be left wondering how she, _they_, deserved the cruel fate that laid out before them now; life without him.

There's music playing, faintly in the distance of the large loft. The lyrics sad, heart wrenching if she let herself really listen to the words but she won't. No, she'll just let the melody wash over her, curve its notes around her and hold her in their understanding.

And she'll let herself believe, in those moments, those words, that he's there with her, with them. And it's his arms holding her, his words whispering in her ear that it's all going to be okay. That their _all _going to be okay and their going to have their forever because _always _was theirs.

And he had promised he'd always be there no matter what.

* * *

><p>She's starting to wish she had a vice, anything to drown the pain, the burning ache deep inside that she knows is the space he created in her life. Anything to replace <em>that <em>hole he created with his leaving but she knows it's useless to even try because when it came down right down to it; there really would be no replacing him no matter how hard she tries.

She wants to believe he'd laugh and tell her it's the truth, that there is no replacing him but she knows he'd tell her otherwise. He'd remind her just how strong she is and that she's extraordinary and brave and she'll move on past this; past him.

But she doesn't want too. Not when she's standing here in his loft with his teenage daughter just upstairs and his mother down the hall and those words softly filling the air. She wants to cling to those dreams she created of her and him and forever and that he's just away on a book tour and their all just waiting for him to come home.

But it's not the truth and she's feeling less then extraordinary standing there in his living room, with those words in the air and the scent of him all around.

It hasn't really sunk in that he's gone. She keeps hearing his voice in her head, the sound of his laughter as he spoke to her on his phone that day. She had laughed too, smiled at his words and felt that familiar urge burning deep inside to let those three little words slip from her lips. But she didn't say a thing. She just smiled, shook her head and told him she'd see him later and he'd better have her coffee.

And he signed off like always, with that familiar word on his lips; _always. _

She had whispered it back and she heard his faint laugh before he said it again and the silence filled the phone. She had sat there, at her desk, staring at her phone, her finger posed over his number on her speed dial, a faint smile on her lips and that urge to call him back and tell him she remembered and that she loved him too and she wants their _'always'_ now.

But she never had that chance and that dream shattered the moment she lifted her gaze and meet Javier's sorrow filled eyes across the precinct.

She wants to believe she felt it when he left but she didn't. She wants to believe that the need to tell him she loved him was the moment he disappeared from her, _their_, lives but it wasn't and sitting there, her eyes locked on Javier's, she felt her heart breaking before he even spoke those words.

He was gone and she was alone.

* * *

><p>He had left quickly and without any warning, and that made it all that much harder to believe. She was waiting for it to hit her, that all-consuming pain that would make her drop to her knees and beg the heavens above to give him back. To give her that one moment back where she would tell him, he was everything, her one and done and that she loved him.<p>

She craved it, that moment when it would hit her that he was gone, because it would be better then the numbness she was feeling now.

She wanted to cry, to fall to her knees and scream and curse the world and him. She wanted to pound her fist against his chest and scream how she wished he never came into her life. Never let her fall in love with him. She wanted to yell how she wishes he never promised her always. That she wished he never called her extraordinary and brought her out of the darkness and made her feel.

She wanted to cling to him and hear him say he loved her and that he found her extraordinary and brave and she was the strongest woman he knew. She wanted to feel his hands in hers and hear him say she was beautiful and everything he ever needed and a mystery he wanted to take a lifetime to solve.

She wanted to feel anything but the numbness and disbelief that she felt now standing there in his loft with his daughter upstairs and his mother down the hall.

* * *

><p>She laid there on that bed they never shared. His sheets beneath her, smelling of his cologne and when she rested her head against his pillowcase, she felt her chin begin to quiver and that all consuming pain boiling over as her vision blurred and tears began to pool in her eyes.<p>

That scent, that was all him, would linger there as long as they remained unwashed. She learned that long ago, when she clung to anything that was, _could, _remind her of her mother. But even she knew his scent would dissipate with time and eventually begin to smell like Alexis, maybe her and then she'd, _they'd_, never have that smell again.

And he'd begin to fade.

And she felt it, that first wave of pain, laying there in the dark, in a bed they never shared with his scent all around her. She felt that aching pain deep within as her body shook with sobs and all those memories of him and her flashed through her mind as she clung to his pillow, covered in his scent.

He was gone and all those chances she told herself they would have, slipped through those words that filled the air.

She doesn't know when it happened, sleep, but she woke to another body beside her and she let herself believe it was him for just a moment but when she saw that red hair pressed against her side, that ache she'd been wishing for washed over her once again and she couldn't do anything but pull the teenager tighter to her side as the tears fell all over again.

This girl was all she had left of the man she loved. The man she promised long ago, she'd take of her. That she'd be everything to his daughter that he had been when he was there. She'd be that constant in her life. She'd keep her from drowning in her loss and help her keep her dreams alive.

She'd be everything he had ever asked of her.

But lying there, in that bed they never shared, with his daughter pressed to her side, she wondered if she could save herself from drowning too.

* * *

><p>She all but moved into the loft. She slept in that bed they never shared, laid her head where he once laid his, letting his scent wash over her and waking to find Alexis beside her, her hand grasping hers. It was their secret, one they never shared with Martha but she knew.<p>

She knew just from the look of sorrow in the older woman's eyes and those glances of gratefulness as she watched Alexis cling to her, about their secret.

It killed her. Those mornings Alexis clung to her with tears in her eyes. Her hands gripping hers, as she begged her to not go. To stay with her, _with them _but she'd gently pull her hands from hers, frame her face within her grasp, whisper how she'd be back and that she loved her and she'd never leave.

And it was those words, whispered from the teenager's lips that would break her. That had her pulling her into her arms and pressing her cell to her ear; _he promised too._

* * *

><p>She cleaned the entire loft; months later for no reason other than she needed something to do. She needed to keep busy and keep herself from remembering what <em>that<em> day was and getting lost in memories of the man who wasn't there. But it was hard, for every time she picked up one of his books, or moved a photograph, she found herself remembering just a little more.

It was that one picture. The one photograph of the two of them she found hidden behind one of him and Alexis, in his office, that had her falling to her knees. She was laughing, her head tossed back and his hand was on her waist, hers pressed against his chest. But it was the look in his eyes, that look of love and he adored her, that had her knees buckling beneath her and those words she wished she had said, leaving her mouth.

She had never said them aloud. She kept them to herself all those months but holding that photograph of the two of them, standing there in his office on his birthday, she couldn't _not_ say them.

She had just finished replacing the towels in the bathroom when she realized she didn't need the two that hung across that bar. She didn't need that second toothbrush she replaced days before because she had noticed he needed a new one or that aftershave she bought because she had noticed he would need a replacement soon. But what had her falling apart all over again, was that second towel that she had pulled from the bar.

She only needed one.

She sat there, broken and crying and clutching that towel to her chest and those words she had wished she had said that day, ringing in her head. She sat there on that cool bathroom floor until Martha found her there, clenching that towel to her chest, hours later.

It was dark and it was late, she saw that as his mother lead her back to that bed they never shared and laid her down with that towel grasped in her hands. A sobbed escaped her lips when she felt the older woman's lips brush her forehead and those whispered words of love fill the air.

They had made it through another day without him and as she laid there, watching the evening light dancing through the room, she wondered how they had managed to get this far without him.

* * *

><p>She found an old letter he had written, pressed between the pages of one of his novels, her name carefully written across the envelope in his curving handwriting. She all but cried when she read those words, some scratched out and replaced with another.<p>

She read how he cried and begged that day in the hospital, all those months before, for a miracle that she'd survive. How he wished he had said those words that first summer and she had come with him to the Hamptons.

She read how he wished he never convinced her to re-open her mother's case and that he was sorry for all the pain he caused her. She read those words, those promises of being there always and loving her until the end because _always_ was never ending.

She cried, gently running her finger over those three little words he had written, her own declaration of love lost in a sob.

She laid that letter against that photo of them, where she was laughing and he was looking at her with all the love in the world and she laid there in that bed they never shared, crying for all those chances she thought they would have and never would.

* * *

><p>One year and a million tears later she stood there before him, her eyes hidden behind dark glasses, hiding the sleepiness nights and those endless tears. She stared at that name etched in stone and that dash between those years. It seemed strange to her how it was the mark of his life and how small it was when he had been so much bigger than life.<p>

And she cried again because she couldn't help it. He was missing it all. He had missed an entire year of his daughter's life. Missed her graduating high school, watching her go off to college, even though it was NYU and not Stanford. He was missing all those nights lying with her, in that bed they never shared.

He missed Kevin and Jenny's wedding and watching Javier and Lanie falling back together all because when they buried him, they couldn't _not_ be together. He missed the day they solved her mother's case and how she had cried there in the precinct, his name on her lips. He missed her walking away from the job that same day because she _just_ couldn't bare the thought of leaving Alexis and his mother all alone in the world and he wasn't there to tell her to stay.

He was going to miss it all and as she stood there, staring at his name etched in stone she could only think one thing; _say _one thing as the snow slowly drifted down around her and it was all that really mattered anyways.

"I love you."

**_~fin_**


End file.
